Tactical Naval Espionage
by TheDudeman
Summary: Gibbs' team investigates the death of a developer of a secret military project known as Metal Gear with the assistance of Solid Snake and Otacon. Revised.
1. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

This is a completely revised version of this story, which was first published in May of 2014. I am happy the original was as popular as it was, but I feel like my writing style and skills are more developed now, and would like to make the story better than ever.

Also, I would like to note that there are many reasons this story can't happen in both Metal Gear and NCIS' canons. Please try to limit criticism to the writing itself, not the logistics of Metal Gear crossing with NCIS. As for canonical placement, in the Metal Gear world, this story happens shortly before the Tanker Chapter of Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty, and, as for the NCIS world, sometime between Bishop's entrance and Tony's exit. Thanks for reading and enjoy the story!


	2. Prologue

**Prologue**

The air was cool at night in Washington D.C. The breeze through the apartment window made George Walters feel comfortable after what had been a long, hot summer day. Comfortable as he may have been, however, George was not calm or collected. Instead, George was feeling incredibly paranoid.

As George ran though his apartment, packing his things, he thought about where he might escape to. Maybe he'd hide out in the Alaskan wilderness. At this point, anything was a possibility. He just needed to get out of D.C. He stuffed clothing in his wheeled suitcase, and packed other bags with toiletries and electronic items, including his laptop and cell phone. He ran frantically from one side of the room to the next, thoughts jumbled as he struggled to pack anything with some sort of organization. The only clear thought in his mind was that he needed to leave. He'd been here too long already, and time was of the essence.

As he packed the last of his luggage, George looked out his apartment window to make sure nobody was waiting for him. Not seeing anything of suspicion, he grabbed his bags and headed out the bedroom and toward the front door. The information he'd obtained, George was certain, was going to have him killed, unless he could get asylum.

As he opened the door, he noticed a faint ticking noise coming from his small couch. George silently set his luggage down and carefully removed the cushion to see just what he'd expected: a bomb. They knew. They were after him, and he only had three seconds left. Three seconds until the flames engulfed his body, charring it beyond recognition, probably. He began to run, making it to the front door again before the bomb went off. In his final second, however, George had accepted his defeat. He could only hope that someone would figure out what really happened to him, and that they didn't become targets too.


	3. Grab Your Gear

**Chapter One**

**Grab Your Gear**

NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was having a good morning. After a night of watching classic movies, Tony had slept just fine. It was early in the morning, and today was his turn for the morning coffee run before heading off to NCIS headquarters to hopefully put some criminals behind bars.

NCIS is the Navy and Marine Corps' FBI, essentially. Crimes involving Naval Officers or Marines are investigated directly by NCIS. Investigations into terrorist threats and terrorism were also part of Tony's job, considering he was part of a Major Case Response Team, NCIS' team of elites who investigate high profile cases along with normal ones. As good as he was at his job, Tony was smart enough to realize that every case was a team effort.

As he exited the NCIS elevator, coffees in hand, Tony greeted his fellow teammates with a smile. "Here you go, McGee," Tony said, handing over the very specific grande triple pump half-caf vanilla latte. He then turned to the new kid on the block, Probationary Agent Eleanor Bishop. "You surprise me, Bishop."

"Why is that," she said confidently.

"No coffee this morning. No drink at all." Tony eyed her suspiciously.

"Not thirsty," Bishop replied, returning Tony's glare.

He sat down at his desk, unsatisfied with her answer. "No one on this team is just 'not thirsty.' We all get something each morning, but today you have broken our incredible streak of repetition."

Bishop remained quiet for a moment, but ultimately caved. "Jake thinks I drink too much coffee. He's said so ever since I was working at the NSA. So, I got tired of hearing it and made him a bet that I could go for a week without any."

"I give it until this afternoon," Tony said, taking a sip of his own coffee.

"What? I can go way longer than an afternoon." Bishop stood up from her desk and walk slightly toward Tony's.

"What do you think, McCoffee," Tony asked.

Special Agent Timothy McGee sat up a little straighter. "Well, Tony, I'd say that giving Bishop only an afternoon is a little harsh."

"Thank you," Bishop said.

"I'd give it until tomorrow," McGee finished.

Bishop shot both agents a look of disgust and sat back down at her desk. "I can't believe it. I'm gonna prove all three of you wrong."

"Good luck," Tony responded. "But you'll crack. We've all done it, coming to work without the black gold." He looked at McGee. "Ask McTwitchy how it went for him."

Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs appeared, coffee in hand. "That's a day I'd like to forget, DiNozzo. Grab your gear."

The three agents stood in unison as Gibbs tossed the keys to one of NCIS' Dodge Chargers. "Caught a case, boss," Tony asked as he caught the keys and picked up his bag and weapon.

Not missing a beat as he got his own gear, Gibbs replied, "explosion in an apartment last night, belonged to a now dead Marine."

Tony knew what explosion Gibbs was talking about. It had been on the news all morning, and Tony was a little relieved that the team was on this case. If anyone could find out who did this, it would be Gibbs.


	4. An Unlikely Alliance

**Chapter Two**

**An Unlikely Alliance**

The drive to the crime scene was not very long, seeing as though it was just a few miles away from NCIS headquarters. Special Agent McGee looked around in awe as he entered what was left of the apartment, showing his credentials to the local police as he stepped in. He noticed Gibbs looking forward intensely, stopped in his tracks. He shifted his gaze to match that of his boss,' and noticed the man who was already surveying the crime scene. Bishop, who had just entered the building, noticed Gibbs and McGee staring at the man.

"Um, who's he," Bishop asked McGee.

"Don't know. Boss?"

Gibbs studied the man silently instead of answering McGee. The man looked about Gibb's age, wearing a military like suit that McGee didn't recognize. It looked like it was part of the US Military, but it was unlike any uniform he'd ever seen. A body suit that had clung to every inch of the man's body, it was fitted with holsters for many different weapons, including, but not limited to firearms, explosives, and even blades. His brown hair was long and messy, but neatly tied by a long, gray bandana.

Gibbs stepped forward toward the man, presented his badge, and announced, "NCIS Special Agent Gibbs."

"Secret Service." The older man's voice was raspy, as if he'd screamed too much and could barely talk. "Special Agent Pliskin. We're on assignment issued directly from the President. My boss has already spoken to Director Vance. NCIS is no longer investigating this."

"And your boss is," Bishop wondered aloud.

"The President."

Gibbs considered this for a moment. He flipped out his phone and dialed NCIS Director Leon Vance's number. After the end of the call, Gibbs turned toward his team. "Grab your gear."

"You mean we're just leaving," Bishop asked.

"Nope," Gibbs said dryly. "We've been ordered to work with Agent Pliskin here on this case."

This news seemed to surprise Pliskin more than McGee or Bishop. "Excuse me," Pliskin mumbled before leaving the room. McGee immediately began inspecting the charred room, while Gibbs left to look for Tony. Bishop could hear Pliskin talking angrily to someone over the phone, but couldn't hear enough of the conversation to know what it was about. She'd suspected it had something to do with NCIS working with them, given how he seemed to react.

"Eavesdropping, Ms. NSA," Tony said cheerily, snapping Bishop out of her trance.

"No, I, um, never mind," she mumbled before beginning to take photographs of the area.

Pliskin reappeared after a few minutes, apparently finished with his call. "Find anything," he asked bluntly.

"There appears to be a charred laptop over here," McGee said as he photographed. "Looks pretty bad, I doubt we'll be able to salvage anything from it."

Both Gibbs and Pliskin shot McGee the same look of impatience. "I'll take it, then," Pliskin said. "I've got an analyst who could salvage computers straight from an apocalypse."

Gibbs turned toward Pliskin, glaring intensely. "NCIS will handle the evidence. Our analyst is pretty good, too."

Pliskin took the bait. "Either NCIS handles the evidence, and Secret Service gets the body, or we share the evidence, and NCIS can have the body."

Gibbs smiled. "Fine, but your analyst comes to NCIS and works with mine."

Tony, McGee, and Bishop had all stopped working to watch Gibbs and Pliskin engage in what Tony would later call the Epic Pissing Match of the Century. Noticing, Gibbs and Pliskin looked at the three, who quickly began collecting evidence again.


End file.
